Erin Gloria Ryan

Welcome to Pissing Contest, a weekly story sharing circle for the the ass-draggiest time of the afternoon on the ass-draggiest time of the last day between you and the weekend. Every week, we'll ask a question, you'll share stories, and we'll pick a winner that's featured in the next week's post. It's like a pyramid scheme of outdoing each other!

Not a day goes by that I do not thank my lucky stars that the internet wasn't an ubiquity in my life until high school and Facebook wasn't available to me until my senior year of college because, like most people, I was an idiot when I was a teen and young twentysomething. I shudder to think about the digital trail of idiocy that might have been if only Vine were around before I knew how to be less dumb.

But this week's Pissing Contest isn't about the time you actively shared something you later went on to regret. It's about the time you found something while passively creeping that you wish you hadn't found, actively shared by someone else who maybe wasn't thinking at the time. Some random chick's Instagram account featuring said random chick sucking face with your friend's fiancee... last week. Your dad's Match.com profile. The face of the guy who broke up with you because he just "wasn't interested in seeing anyone right now" on Tinder. Your therapist's Twitter account. Your boss's N*Sync fanfic Livejournal. Tell us what you found, and what — if anything — you did about it.

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But before we dive in, here's the winner of last week's incredibly great Weird Celebrity Encounters Pissing Contest, the lovely rollsnideroll.

I'm pretty sure my status as An Old has been cemented, and if it hasn't, it will be now. Spring Break '93 and my friends and I decide to fly out and crash at my roommate's brother's apartment in West Hollywood. Well, one of my friends' boyfriends was a big tattoo guy, and he wanted a t-shirt from Sunset Strip Tattoos, so while we make the rounds to the Whiskey and other landmarks, we stop "just to get a shirt." As we're walking in, a guy with a bandanna around his head and the prettiest brown eyes I've seen starts chatting me up. He'd just gotten a tattoo — a tiger across his shoulder, I think? — and went back in to look at tats with us and helps me pick one out. We all end up getting tattoos, and while I'm getting mine, the artist says, "That was pretty awesome, huh?" He gets a blank stare from me, and says, "Meeting him was pretty cool." I say, "I guess he seemed nice enough," still not realizing where he's going with this. The guy looks like he's about to slap me and says, "That was Tupac Shakur." Oops.